Tracks
by Bird Charmer
Summary: Fried Green Tomatoes missing scene. The walk home after Idgie and Ruth jump off the train, and the changes in their relationship that start to occur during that walk.


Author's Notes:

Fried Green Tomatoes is one of my all-time favorite movies, particularly the story of Idgie and Ruth, and I was disappointed that there isn't any more fan fiction for it. So, I decided I would try my hand at writing some. I have several ideas for stories that will explore the characters of Ruth and Idgie and their relationship; hopefully, I will have the time to write all of them, but I'm not guaranteeing anything right now. I don't post works in progress, though, so anything that's posted will be a complete story. Ideally, the stories will both work as stand-alones and build on each other. I do go with the book's interpretation of their relationship, so there will be some romance, but there is none in this story.

Disclaimer:

Unfortunately, I don't own any of these characters (well, the owl's mine), they belong to Fannie Flagg, John Avnet, the brilliant Mary Stuart Masterson and Mary Louise Parker, Universal Pictures, Act III Communications, and a lot of other people, none of whom are me. No copyright infringement is meant and absolutely no money has changed hands.

Archive:

Yes, but ask first please. I want to come visit my story.

Rating: There's one "special" word, repeated a few times, and in general, it's probably safe for most ages. However, because of where I want to take the characters, the movie's own rating and the relationship between two women, I am putting it as Teen/PG-13, just to be safe.

Tracks

Ruth never could resist a dare. That's how she came to be lying, face planted in a mix of rocks, dirt and weeds, a bit winded after jumping off a moving train on a hot summer night in Alabama, rather than lying in her comfortable bed, in the gentle breeze of a fan, at home in Valdosta, Georgia. That's how she came to be chasing after this half-wild, alien creature, in hopes that she could be the one to tame her and bring her back to her family. She had hoped that she could be the one who would help Idgie. At this moment, Ruth doubted her sanity, and she wondered what she had been thinking when she suggested that Idgie should give her a try, that maybe they could have fun together. This certainly was not her idea of fun. With a sigh, Ruth got to her feet, brushing off the assorted dirt and rocks from her hands, only to see Idgie still half-lying, holding her leg. She walked over.

"You alright?"

"I'm fine," Idgie insisted, a bit sharply, sitting up, propping her sore leg in front her. She had jumped off moving trains a million times, landing perfectly each time. This time, she had been so surprised that Ruth had dared to jump that her own flying leap had been off balance, coming down hard on her left ankle. She ground her teeth against the pain. She tried to get up, immediately giving up as her ankle gave way under her slight weight. "I'm alright," she tried to sound convincing. She could not abide to be seen as weak, not after that day many years ago when Buddy died on these same tracks.

"Does it hurt?" Ruth reached for her leg, running her hand down to the ankle, barely touching it. Idgie flinched away from the touch and let out a yip of pain. "Guess so," Ruth said softly, immediately removing her hand.

"Better get you to a doc -" Ruth was interrupted as Idgie slapped the ground with her hand.

"Shit."

"A doctor," Ruth continued, as if nothing had happened. "Which way is it?"

"About two miles down the tracks," Idgie ground out, her frustration showing.

"Alright. Let's go." Ruth got up from her position next to Idgie, reaching behind Idgie, taking Idgie's arm over her shoulder. She started to help Idgie to her feet.

"You'll never be able to carry me that far."

Ruth gave Idgie a look that made her rethink her statement.

"I know, never say never." Idgie found herself on her feet; one arm slung over Ruth's shoulder, Ruth's other hand holding her up.

"I'm not, we're walking." Ruth started walking off, and Idgie had no choice but to come along.

They made slow progress along through the underbrush by the tracks, avoiding the tracks themselves by some tacit agreement, both of them too aware what could happen on these tracks. Idgie tried not to lean on Ruth too much; she was uncomfortable with that much contact with another person. Ever since her brother had died, Idgie had avoided close relationships, preferring the easy, often drunken companionships of the River Club and spending most of her time by herself, wandering along the river. The only person who knew her haunts was Big George, but even he could not reach the real Idgie, she would not let him close. So, she avoided contact with Ruth as much as her ankle would let her. She tried putting some of her weight on the sprained ankle, finding how much weight it would hold before it hurt too much to use it. She would rather ruin the leg than have to lean on Ruth more than absolutely necessary.

They continued their disjointed walking for half a mile, half-falling over each other's feet, Idgie swearing and muttering the entire way until she ran out of breath to swear out loud. A litany of oaths continued to run silently in her head as they walked. Finally, Idgie sank to the ground. She hated to stop, but her ankle was swelling and she was starting to feel very sorry for herself, something she hated to do. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes. She rarely cried, but this was just too much, she was stuck in the woods with a person she didn't really trust or even like that much, and she had to rely on Ruth to get her out of there. Her independent soul smarted under the confinement. She blinked hard a few times, forcing back the tears, something she had become expert at. She brought her toughness and brittleness to the front.

"I've got to stop for a minute," she told Ruth. "Feels like there's a pebble in my shoe."

She went through the show of removing the shoe off her good foot, while trying to catch her breath and not let Ruth see how much she was hurting. She made a big show of shaking out the shoe and slowly lacing it up.

"Let me look at your foot," Ruth reached gentle hands towards Idgie's leg, carefully stretching it out, seeing how the laces were stretched over the swollen ankle.

"Trust me, Idgie. I won't hurt you." Ruth tried to reassure Idgie as she ran her hands down her leg. "Let me just loosen the laces a bit, maybe that will feel better." She looked into Idgie's face, holding her hands still on her leg.

"Hey, if it makes you happy." Idgie's sarcastic tone was back, and she avoided Ruth's gaze.

With exquisite care, Ruth untied the shoe laces and slowly loosened them a bit. Idgie only flinched a couple of times, when Ruth had to pull a bit to get the laces to loosen, Idgie biting back on any exclamation of pain, refusing to appear even weaker.

"Wish I could take off the shoe, but I think we'd better keep it on," Ruth said quietly, focused on retying the laces. "Maybe we should try walking on the tracks themselves, might be faster." She looked at Idgie, trying to gauge her reaction.

Idgie shrugged her shoulders, and they found themselves walking along the center of the tracks, making better time. The walking certainly was easier, and Ruth thought maybe Idgie was at least a little more accepting of her help than before. Maybe there was a chance after all, maybe she could help Momma Threadgoode in the end with her daughter. She found herself starting to admire Idgie's bravado just a little, she had noticed the sheen of tears in Idgie's eyes and seen how she her determination in trying not to appear weak. They walked along quietly, but Ruth had the feeling that Idgie was no longer swearing in her head.

Suddenly a shadow flew by, close overhead, with a swoosh of wings. Idgie cried out sharply in surprise at the owl, putting her weight fully on her left ankle. Pain shot up her leg, causing her to cry out a second time. In trying to avoid putting the weight on the bad leg, she stumbled badly across the tracks. Ruth had instinctively flinched away from the owl's close flight, letting go of Idgie's shoulder. Their feet intertwined, causing both of them to fall forward. Ruth took several stumbling steps and found her balance, only to see Idgie's sheet-white face and trembling lips. Idgie was staring at her sound leg, which was tightly held by the railroad track. She was jiggling it, pulling back as hard as she could, mindless of the pain of her bad leg.

In the closeness of the dark woods, a mouse screamed in pain as the owl's talons found it.

"Shit, shit, shit. Ruth, I'm stuck, I can't get my foot out," Idgie cried out, voice raising at the end as she battled against the overwhelming panic. Both of them could see Buddy's death in front of them, see his battered body carried away under the train. Ruth immediately leaned down, forcing her hands to stop trembling. Idgie was swearing yet again, hitting her hand against the metal tie, pushing her hands into the same space where Ruth's already were, trying to untie the stubborn laces.

Ruth was sure she heard a far-off train whistle and the rustle and rattle of an approaching train as she frantically tried to still her shaking hands, trying to force them to work to untie the laces in the confined space. She slapped Idgie's hands away, it was just impossible to have all four hands in a tiny space. Idgie finally stopped trying to shove her hands in there, but she started to try to pull her foot out again. Her sore foot was flailing against the gravel between the tracks as she attempted to get purchase. Sand, soil and gravel flew in the air in the frantic struggle, covering both of them.

Finally, Ruth undid all the laces and Idgie yanked her foot out. She stumbled away, down off the tracks, to collapse against a fallen tree a few feet from the tracks. She buried her head in her hands, breathing hard, trying to get control. All of a sudden, she realized Ruth was no longer at her side.

"Ruth?" Idgie yelled.

"I'm just trying to get your shoe out of the tracks," Ruth replied, sounding too calm for the situation. Now they both heard the train whistle, stronger this time. Idgie reburied her head into her arms, hands over her ears, legs tightly curled into her body.

Then Ruth was there, next to her, trying to give her the shoe.

"Idgie, here's your shoe. Hey, Idgie, sweetie, are you alright?" Ruth tried to look into Idgie's face, but she kept her hands over it. Behind them, the train blasted by, further showering them with debris. Ruth reached over and gently pried off Idgie's hands, feeling Idgie's trembling body. Tears stood in Idgie's eyes as she tried to turn away from Ruth's gaze, tried to avoid having Ruth see her weakness. She hated to cry, it never changed anything, just gave people a chance to hurt her.

"Oh, Idgie, come here, it's alright, you're fine," Ruth slipped her arm around her, refusing to let Idgie pull away. Idgie's lips trembled and finally the tears fell, leaving tracks in the dust on her face. She tried to bring her hands back up to her face, but Ruth caught them and stilled them.

"Hey, hey, it's alright to cry," Ruth said softly, pulling Idgie's face into her shoulder.

Idgie's shoulder's shook with her tears, and she fisted her hands into Ruth's dress, reminding Ruth of a small child. In some ways, despite her sheen of toughness and independence, Idgie was still very young, Ruth thought. She cried like a child, big gulping sobs and hiccupping breaths. Ruth felt her shoulder becoming damp with hot tears. The air was damp with tears and the sweat of fear and the close Alabama night.

"I thought, I thought, we'd both be killed. That it would be like with Buddy," Idgie stammered into Ruth's shoulder. "I was so scared."

"I know, honey, I know. I was scared, too." Ruth ran her hand down Idgie's snarled braid, stroking the matted hair, moving her hand down Idgie's back, rubbing the shaking body in her arms.

"But you could just have left me," turning her head toward Ruth, Idgie looked at her with questioning eyes, wondering how anyone could care enough for her to risk their life.

Ruth wiped the tears from Idgie's face. "No, I couldn't"

"Oh, right. God and the Bible and all that," Idgie's sarcastic tone was back.

"No. I just couldn't." Ruth smiled at Idgie, who still rested her head on Ruth's shoulder. Idgie turned this over in her mind, examining it from all angles, finally smiling back softly. It transformed her entire face, the hard brittle look falling off. She ducked her head, a bit embarrassed, then dug through her pockets for a scrap of an old scarf, trying to wipe off her face. She scrubbed at her face, only succeeding in leaving grimy lines of dirt and tears.

"Idgie, give me that," Ruth held out her hand, taking the fabric from Idgie's hand, shaking it out and carefully wiping away as much of the dirt as she could. She stopped herself from spitting on the rag like she would with some of the younger children in church, but she smiled as Idgie made the same disgusted face as they did at having their faces wiped.

"Turn around," Ruth directed, sitting up on the fallen tree, her knees on either side of Idgie. She loosened the twine holding the braid together, and shook out Idgie's hair. A shower of debris fell out of the blonde hair, and Ruth started running her fingers through the tangled strands, trying to work out the snarls and mats. Idgie hung her head down, enjoying the sensation of fingers twining through her hair, feeling overwhelming fatigue as the soft movement relaxed her. Ruth would pick up the mass of hair and gently shake it, letting it fall over her fingers until she had found every tangle and gently teased the hairs loose. Idgie found herself leaning back into the warmth behind her, legs stretched out in front of her, the ankle forgotten for the moment. Ruth briefly put her arms around Idgie and rested her chin on the crown of Idgie's head, smiling softly. Idgie lightly rested her hands over Ruth's for a brief moment. Ruth then pulled back and rebraided the thick hair.

"We'd better go, still have a ways to walk, and I don't think we should walk on the tracks any more," Ruth said with a sigh. "Here, let me see your ankle," Ruth moved off the log and sat down in front of Idgie's stretched out legs.

With soft hands, Ruth brushed the dirt off the myriad scratches on Idgie's legs and saw that the ankle was at least no more swollen than it had been before Idgie's abuse.

"Does it hurt much?" She asked Idgie, who nodded.

"Yeah, some." Hiding her pain from Ruth didn't seem so important any more, but she still didn't like to appear weak. Idgie yawned hugely and gave an embarrassed smile.

Ruth reached for Idgie's shoe and, as Idgie watched with quiet eyes, Ruth picked up Idgie's good foot and, propping it in her lap, Ruth gently brushed off the foot and eased the shoe over it. Retying the laces, she put Idgie's foot back on the ground and stood up herself. Brushing her hands off, Ruth again draped Idgie's arm over her shoulder and helped her to her feet.

This time they made better progress, walking in unity and not finding each other's feet in the way.

Ruth ran her hand down Idgie's bare shoulder at times as they walked, and Idgie learned to lean a little bit on someone else for the first time since Buddy's death.


End file.
